Charles II. was busily engaged in proving, or in endeavoring to prove, to Miss Stewart, that she was the only person for whom he cared at all, and consequently he was swearing for her an affection similar to that which his ancestor Henry IV. had entertained for Gabrielle. Unfortunately for Charles II. he had hit upon an unlucky day, upon a day when Miss Stewart had taken it into her head to make him jealous, and therefore, instead of being touched by his offer, as the king had hoped, she laughed heartily. "Oh! sire, sire," she cried, laughing all the while; "if I were to be unfortunate enough to ask you for a proof of the affection you profess, how easy it would be to see that you are telling a falsehood." "Nay, listen to me," said Charles, "you know my cartoons by Raphael; you know whether I care for them or not; the whole world envies me their possession, as you well know also; my father got Vandyck to purchase them. Would you like me to send them to your house this very day?" "Oh! no," replied the young girl; "pray keep them yourself, sire; my house is far too small to accommodate such visitors." "In that case you shall have Hampton Court to put the cartoons in." "Be less generous, sire, and learn to love a little while longer, that is all I have to ask you." "I shall never cease to love you; is not that enough?" "You are laughing, sire." "Do you wish me to weep, then?" "No; but I should like to see you a little more melancholy." "Thank Heaven, I have been so long enough; fourteen years of exile, poverty, and misery, I think I may well regard it is a debt discharged; besides, melancholy makes people look so plain." "Far from that, for look at the young Frenchman." "What! the Vicomte de Bragelonne! are you smitten too! By Heaven, they will all become mad about him one after the other; but he, on the contrary, has a reason for being melancholy." "Why so?" "Oh! indeed! you wish me to betray state secrets, do you?" "If I wish it, you must do it, since you told me you were quite ready to do everything I wished." "Well, then, he is bored in his own country. Does that satisfy you?" "Bored?" "Yes, a proof that he is a simpleton; I allow him to fall in love with Miss Mary Grafton, and he feels bored. Can you believe it?" "Very good; it seems then, that if you were to find Miss Lucy Stewart indifferent to you, you would console yourself by falling in love with Miss Mary Grafton." "I don't say that; in the first place, you know that Mary Grafton does not care for me; besides, a man can only console himself for a lost affection by the discovery of a new one. Again, however, I repeat, the question is not of myself, but of that young man. One might almost be tempted to call the girl he has left behind him a Helen--a Helen before her introduction to Paris, of course." "He has left some one, then?" "That is to say, some one has left him." "Poor follow! so much the worse!" "What do you mean by 'so much the worse'?"